


Kiss and Tell

by dementorsatemysoup



Series: The Archer and the Cop [2]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Daryl is a pretty princess okay, Fluff, Getting Together, Kissing, M/M, Pining, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2014-10-22
Packaged: 2018-02-21 14:38:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2471870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dementorsatemysoup/pseuds/dementorsatemysoup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Judith pretends to be a dragon, Daryl is the pretty princess, and Rick feels a little confused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> While sitting here, on my bedroom floor, listening to Liz Phair, I decided 'I wanna write Rickyl.' So, here you go, my dear readers, enjoy 500+ words of Rick and Daryl with a dash of Judith being an adorable bean.
> 
> Thanks for reading and drop me a comment if you can.
> 
> I don't own 'em.  
> Bye!!
> 
> P.S. This is set in an alternate universe where they never left the prison (mostly because I haven't exactly watched the entirety of season 3 or 4 yet), so bear with me.

**It starts like this:**

Rick hears a pearl of giggles followed by a high-pitched roar coming from Judith’s cell. He stops, listening closely, barely holding a smile at bay when he hears a familiar voice playfully beg, “Please! Let me go!”

“Never,” Judith shouts and Rick pushes the curtain aside just in time to see Judith jump on Daryl. “You’re my prisoner now!”

“Oh, whatever will I do,” Daryl states, his face flushing red when he spots Rick watching him. Judith follows his gaze, bounding off the bed and stalking towards her father, her fingers bent like claws, growling.

“Are you here to save the princess?” she demands pushing herself to her full, three-feet-four-inches.

Barely suppressing a smile, Rick looks down at Judith and says, “I guess I am.”

“You’ll have to get through me!” She roars again, pretending to fly, waving her arms up and down as she runs in a circle. “I am a dan’erous dragon!” Clearly Beth had been telling Judith stories again, reciting all the Disney movies and fairytales she could remember. Truthfully, Rick would rather Judith pretend she’s a dragon than one of _them._ The mere thought has him internally shuddering.

“I blow fire at you!” Judith exclaims and throws a red beanbag at her father.

Rick, remembering a time when Carl had been this age (though Carl never had to worry about the dead trying to kill him back then), plays along, hissing when the beanbag hits his hand. “You’ve burned my hand.” Daryl smirks, shaking his head back and forth, and Rick shrugs his shoulders.

“Ha!” Judith picks up the beanbag, readying herself to throw it again, but Rick rushes her, grabbing at her side, and she breaks down into a fit of giggles, dropping the beanbag.

“Have I won?” he asks curiously.

“N-never,” she replies breathlessly. Rick digs into her side again and she laughs harder, tears of mirth in her eyes. “Fine!” she shouts, hiccupping. “You win!”

“My hero,” Daryl drawls sarcastically, chuckling at the playful scowl Rick gives him. The hunter stands, intending to walk out of Judith’s cell. He has watch this evening (the whole reason Rick had been looking for him), but he stops when Judith calls his name.

Daryl turns, giving the little girl his undivided attention, something he only does for a handful of people, and patiently says, “What?”

“You’re a’pposed to kiss,” Judith says with all the innocence of a five-year old. Daryl’s blue eyes seek out Rick, something unidentifiable flashing in them, his face blank but still a shade paler than usual.

“Jude…” Rick starts letting his eyes flicker down to his daughter.

“Beth says that the knight and princess kiss after the knight saves her. _You,”_ she gestures to Rick, “saved Daryl, Daddy. You should kiss him.”

“I’m sure Daryl…” Rick’s words catch in his throat when Daryl surges forward, pressing a feather light kiss to his lips. Before the ex-lawman can react, the hunter immediately pulls away, turning on his heel and stalking out of the cell.

Rick watches Daryl walk away, the back of the archer’s neck a bright red, feeling thoroughly confused, and, surprisingly, a little turned on.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of you wanted me to continue, and then I had a stroke of inspiration in my mother's car today, so here's a new chapter. I'll probably write one more chapter, just to be on the safe side, and I thank everyone who commented, left kudos, or bookmarked this story (and that goes doubly to those who subscribed because, well, you knew I was gonna write a new chapter even before I did). So, thanks for reading and please enjoy.
> 
> I don't own 'em and drop me a comment if you have the time.
> 
> P.S. This is my first try at anything remotely borderline smutty, so bear with me.

_Kisses trail down Rick’s neck and bare chest from hot, soft lips. He closes his eyes, a shiver rolling through him, and Daryl murmurs, “You okay?”_

_“I’m fine,” he replies hoarsely gently tugging on the hunter’s hair. Getting the hint, Daryl moves upward, pressing his lips to Rick’s. They exchange greedy, borderline dirty kisses, one of Daryl’s hands gripping Rick’s hip tightly, the other resting against the side of the ex-lawman’s neck, while Rick tangles his finger in long, dark hair._

_Daryl's lips stray from Rick's mouth, his tongue finding the other man's ear, and the ex-lawman shivers again, pure desire rolling through him and making him groan. He feels the archer smile against his skin, and he opens his mouth to say something, but words fail him when Daryl whispers,_ _“I love you,” in his ear, the hunter’s hand creeping towards Rick’s jeans…_

Rick jerks awake, breathing heavily into his pillow. From outside, he hears shuffling feet and Judith’s tiny voice softly calls, “Daddy, you awake?”

Quickly putting his back to the doorway, making sure his blanket covers him, not needing his baby girl walk in on him right now, he says, “Give Daddy a minute, Jude.”

“I just wanted to tell you that Beth and Carol say breakfast is ready.”

“Okay.”

She lingers a few seconds longer before walking away. He tracks her footsteps, waits until he can no longer hear them, and then promptly rolls onto his back. He hasn’t had a dream like that in years (not since the infamous Lori dream his senior year), his sleep usually riddled with nightmares, and his brain is still trying to process it.

Rick gives himself a few more minutes before getting out of bed. He stretches, feeling his joints pop back into place, picking his discarded jeans up off the floor. He pulls them on, letting his mind wander back to the dream.

Ever since Daryl kissed him in Judith’s cell, Rick hasn’t been able to get the hunter off his mind. The dream is a new development, something unexpected, but not exactly unwelcome. Hell, having dream sex with his best friend is infinitely better than watching everyone he loves get devoured by zombies, albeit a little confusing.

Rick’s never actually been attracted to a man before. He’s noticed men, he’d have to be blind _not_ to notice some of the guys he worked with, but he’s never gone as far as to have a sex dream about a man. This is a new experience for him, and he wishes he could sit Daryl down and talk it out, but he hasn’t seen the hunter in a few days.

Rick doesn’t want to believe that Daryl is avoiding him, but that’s exactly what it feels like. Whenever Rick goes to his cell to talk, Daryl is conveniently on watch (even though he’s not scheduled to do it again for another few days), and whenever Rick tries to corner him in the watch tower, Glenn has suddenly been roped into watch so Daryl can go hunting. It’s infuriating, and Rick is several seconds away from ambushing the hunter and dragging him off to the basement so they can have a proper conversation.

He’s pulling on his boots when he remembers the end of his dream. The moment right before he woke up, those three words whispered in his ear, and he just feels even more confused. He really needs to talk to Daryl.

*

Rick gets his chance a few days later. The group has monthly town runs, mostly to seek out any survivors or supplies since any food they could have found had long since decayed in the five years since the outbreak happened. Sometimes they’d get lucky and find a can good or two, but they usually rely on whatever Rick manages to grow in his garden and the animals Daryl catches. It’s a system that's worked quite well for them, so they don’t really complain.

Carl is checking the weapons, having long since put his foot down about not being able to help, and, at eighteen, Rick knows he can’t exactly stop his son anymore. Glenn and Tyreese are going over the plan again, mapping out who goes where, and deciding where the best meet up point should be. Bob, Michonne, and Sasha are loading up the truck, while Daryl checks his bike tires. It’s familiar, something they’ve been doing for years, and Rick has no doubt each one could probably do their tasks with their eyes closed.

“Alright, we’re gonna go in pairs,” Glenn says closing the map, pushing away from the truck. “Bob and Sasha; Tyreese and Carl; Michonne and me; Rick and Daryl…” he notices the way Daryl doesn’t quite meet Rick’s eyes and curiously asks, “Is that a problem?”

“No,” Daryl answers quickly, shaking his head, scowling at the ground. “Hurry up. I don’t wanna be gone all day.” Before Glenn can press the point, he kicks his bike to life, and drives through the gate Maggie and Carol have just opened.

A little dejected, Rick gets into the driver side of the truck, Michonne shooting him a questioning look from the passenger side. He shakes his head, silently telling her everything is okay, starting the truck, and follows Daryl out of the gate, waving at Carol and Maggie as he passes them.

The town, like usual, is pretty dead. Walkers aren’t exactly a big problem anymore, with the exception of a freshly turned geek (which has become rarer and rarer in recent years) most have decayed to the point where they have to literally drag themselves, but they still had to worry about other groups of survivors. Some weren’t as welcoming as theirs, and Rick remembers a time, a few months back, where Glenn and Michonne were nearly killed by a couple cannibals. That katana of Michonne’s could still slice a man’s head clean off.

They break off into pairs, heading towards their designated areas, Daryl trailing behind Rick. Several times the ex-lawman opens his mouth to start a conversation, but he’s not exactly sure where to start. Daryl doesn’t really pull away anymore when the conversation gets too deep, but that doesn’t mean he likes to share either. For everything he’s told Rick (and the others for that matter), it feels as if the archer still has more secrets he’s just not ready to share. Rick knows he has to approach this topic carefully, lest he screws up his friendship with Daryl. Of course, he’s not exactly prepared for Daryl to bring it up.

“Look, Rick, ’m sorry fer the other day.” Rick hears the hunter shuffle his feet, no doubt run a hand through his hair, and, if he’s not mistaken, Daryl almost sounds a little shy.

“I’m not mad,” Rick answers carefully pushing open the rusty door to a dirty, pale green house. It creaks quite loudly, and he involuntarily flinches. There had been a time when a sudden noise like that would have alerted walkers and sometimes old habits die hard.

“Yer not?” Daryl sounds a little wary, but Rick can also hear the relief in his voice. “T-that’s good. ‘Cause I’da hate to think…” he trails off, drawing in a breath. “Yer my friend and I wouldn't wanna wreck that.”

“You didn’t.” Rick turns, offering Daryl a smile, and the hunter returns it. They split up, Rick still trying to sort through what he wants to say as he heads upstairs. The stairs creak and the railing sways as he grips it, dust and grime sticking to his hand as he slides it up the wood. The top floor has more cobwebs than his attic used to have, and a few of the doors have already fallen off their hinges.

Rick peeks into the first room, fading posters of long dead rock stars (maybe, he really has no way of knowing who’s alive or dead) are still thumb tacked to the wall. There’s a heavy desk blocking the closet, but he doesn’t hear any sounds coming from behind the door. Either the walker had grown too weak to move, or it hadn’t heard him.

He backs away from the room slowly, heading to the bedroom across the hall. The door is ajar, and he carefully pushes it open. Inside the painted walls are peeling, purple flakes littering the bright orange carpet. Dust has settled over a child-sized table, a long forgotten tea set scattered across the surface. In another life, this could have easily been Judith’s room, the one across the hall Carl’s, and Rick has to squeeze his burning eyes shut for a moment; collect himself.

“You alright?” a sudden voice startles him, his eyes popping open, and he turns to find Daryl standing behind him, the hunter’s hand half-raised, almost as if he were about to touch Rick’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” Rick answers a little hoarsely. He clears his throat, nodding towards the first room he had checked. “I think there might be a walker trapped in the closet. There’s a desk blocking the door.” Daryl nods, giving him a worried look, and Rick offers him a pale smile. “I’m fine.”

“Okay.” Daryl is still a little skeptical, but he lets it go, moving away from Rick and towards another room. “The kitchen has been ransacked; the living room not much better, but I did find something for Judith.”

“You keep bringing her presents, she’s gonna expect it every time,” Rick jokes trailing after Daryl.

“It’s nothing big,” the hunter replies with an offhanded shrug. “And she’s growing up in this hellhole. She deserves something nice.”

“Yeah,” Rick agrees nodding his head.

They finish checking upstairs, not finding anything useful, and start towards the stairs again. Rick goes first, very much aware of Daryl close behind him. He’s never given it much thought before, just how closely the hunter follows him, but now it’s the only thing he can think about. He could literally lean back and his body would be resting against Daryl’s chest. Truthfully, he doesn’t exactly _hate_ that idea.

He comes crashing out of his fantasy with a dull thud when he feels the railing give way against his weight.  For a moment he actually thinks he’s going to fall, an involuntary shout ripping from his throat, but strong hands grab him before he can go over the edge, pulling him against a broad chest, and he hears a crash as the railing hits the ground.

“L-looks like I’m the pretty princess,” Rick murmurs softly, his shaky laughter dying on his lips when he looks up. His eyes are level with Daryl’s, and Rick’s very much aware of how close they're standing. He can easily break the space between them, press his lips to Daryl’s, do what he’s been thinking about doing since that day in Judith’s cell.

But before he can bridge the short distance he hears Glenn shout, “You guy’s okay.”

And just like that, the moment’s broken. Daryl abruptly lets Rick go; his flushed face unreadable when he says, “Be careful next time.” He then carefully pushes past the ex-lawman, heading down the stairs without a backwards glance, and Rick can’t quite push down the disappointment in his chest.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it for now. I want to thank everyone who commented, left kudos, and/or bookmarked this story. Here's hoping you enjoyed the 4000+ words of Rickyl. And I will see you in the next story (if y'all want one).
> 
> Thanks for reading and I don't own 'em.

Rick tosses Glenn the keys on his way to the truck, slipping into the backseat without looking Daryl's way. He can feel the hunter's eyes on him, so he shuts the door wordlessly, leaning back into his seat, closing his eyes. He listens as the others get into the truck, hears the familiar roar of Daryl's bike coming to life, but he refuses to open his eyes. The others don't say anything to him, something he appreciates, but he does hear them talking among themselves. Between the group, they found a partially full first aid kit, several of those disposable rain ponchos, and a few other odds and ends.

"We were more successful this week," Glenn states to no one in particular, but the others still agree with him. They all know, one day even these runs will be for nought, so they take any win they can get and don't complain much about the losses.

They get back to the prison around noon, Maggie greeting Glenn the moment he gets out of the truck. Judith runs up to Rick, her tiny boots kicking up dirt, and throws her arms around his legs. He returns the hug, giving her a small smile, and she says, "I'm glad nobody died."

"Me, too," Rick answers and Judith lets him go, rushing to Carl's side. After she greets Carl, she moves towards Daryl, an expectant look on her tiny face. He pretends he doesn't see her, something he does every time they go on a run. When she had been younger, she used to get irritated by his little game, but now she just waits patiently, her hands behind her back, rocking back and forth on her heels.

He finally looks down at her, his eyebrows raised in faux-confusion, and she states, "I've gots all day." Daryl breaks into a grin before bending down so she can give him a hug. She throws her arms around his neck, clinging to him as he picks her up off the ground. Rick feels something warm blossom in his chest at the scene, unable to keep his smile at bay. He's seen this same scenario a hundred times, but never has it affected him like this. He's falling fast and hard for the other man and there's nothing anyone can do about it.

And, truthfully, he doesn't want anyone to stop it. He hasn't felt this way since junior year. Not since Lori walked into his English class and smiled right at him. At sixteen he knew he was going to marry her, even if everyone else doubted him, and now, at forty, he knows that he wants  _something_ to happen with Daryl. He's not sure what exactly, at least not yet, but he's willing to take that final leap into whatever it will be.

He's just hoping Daryl's ready, too.

* * *

Lori had always accused Rick of not communicating enough, and maybe she had been right, but he had never been much of a talker. In high school, Shane used to do all the talking while Rick lingered behind him, trying hard to look like he agreed with the other boy, while secretly wondering what Lori had been doing. His father had been the same way, as had his grandfather. Three generations of Grimes men who married women who expected more loquacious spouses, but ended up with husbands who kept their emotions close to the chest.

But where Lori expected Rick to talk, Daryl seemed to be cut from the same cloth as the ex-lawman. Even from the very beginning, Rick and Daryl never needed to talk to each other verbally. They seemed to perfect the art of nonverbal communication, even surpassing what he and Shane had shared, and five years later it had just gotten stronger. But Daryl still had that annoying habit of erasing the emotions from his face, putting up masks over masks over masks so no one could know what exactly he was feeling, and Rick knew, even after all these years, that that was Daryl's coping mechanism. If people couldn't see what he was feeling they couldn't call him weak, and the last thing Daryl wanted to be was weak.

Rick understands, he feels the same way sometimes, and he knows enough about Daryl's past to know what showing weakness meant in the Dixon household. But he also knows he can't  _not_  talk to Daryl about everything going on inside his head. It's not fair to the hunter, keeping all these feelings bottled up like he's doing, and while Daryl can easily reject the ex-lawman, at least it'll be out in the open. They can get over this hurdle, and maybe come out stronger for it. Of course, it could also blow up in their faces and screw up the friendship they managed to build over the past five years, but there's still the off chance Daryl feels the same way.

He _had_ been the one to initiate the first kiss in Judith's cell. Rick had been all for letting it go, but _Daryl_  made the first move. He started whatever this is, and now the ball is in Rick's court. He just wishes he knew where the hell to start. He figures he could always start with the stairway this morning. There had been a moment between them, and Rick can't help wondering how far they would have gone if Glenn hadn't interrupted them.

Rick still doesn't have any idea what to say that night when he heads towards Judith's cell. He thought about it long and hard all day, and he pretty much realized that Lori had been right. His communication skills needed work.

He stops outside of Judith's cell when he hears soft voices coming from inside, almost turning away but deciding to stay and listen. "What are ya gonna name your dragon?" Daryl asks quietly, his voice soft like it always is when he's speaking to Judith.

"I dunno," Judith answers in a hushed voice. "Maybe Lori. After Mommy."

"That's a good name." Daryl sounds sad, and Rick emulates his sentiment. Even after all these years, he still misses his wife. He doesn't wear his wedding ring anymore, opting to keep it on a chain around his neck, but sometimes, when he finds himself really needing someone at night, he takes the ring off and slips it around his finger. It's more about security now than anything else, a way to know he's not exactly alone anymore, but recently, especially after talking to Daryl before going bed, he finds himself slipping the ring on less and less.

"Is it okay that I miss her, even if I don't 'member her?" Judith's voice is small, so different from her usual tone that, for a moment, she sounds far older than her five years. Rick eyes sting, his vision blurring, and he has to blink twice to clear it.

"That's perfectly fine," Daryl answers quietly. "In fact, you'd be a fool if ya didn't."

"Really?" Daryl must nod because Judith continues, "Even though I miss her, I still gots lots of family. Daddy, Carl, Beth, Carol, Maggie, Glenn, Bob, Michie, Ty-Ty, Sasha," her voice is a barely above a whisper when she adds, "and my Daryl."

"Yer damn right ya got me." And she'd continue to have him. Even from the very beginning, when Rick had been unable to care for Judith, she had always had Daryl. He's been the one constant in her life, and he'll continue to be for as long as she needs him. He's been a constant in everyone's lives, made himself a place in their group without ever expecting anything in return, and now Rick feels like Daryl should get something in return.

And just like that, Rick knows exactly what he wants to say. He waits another few moments before pushing Judith's curtain to the side and slipping into the cell. She's curled up in Daryl's lap, clutching a battered looking dragon to her chest, her dark hair falling in her face, her breathing soft and even as she sleeps. Daryl looks up at Rick, his expression curious but not really surprised, no doubt having heard the ex-lawman approach the cell.  Rick doesn't say anything, instead he crosses the room, taking a seat next to the hunter, leaning his back against the wall, leaving just a few inches of space between them.

"You know, she hasn't called you 'my Daryl' since she was three," Rick comments softly, running his fingers through his daughter's hair.

"I know," the hunter whispers looking down at Judith. Her right hand has a loose hold of his shirt, her barefeet tucked underneath his right thigh, and it's probably the worst position to be sleeping in, but Rick doesn't have the heart to separate his baby girl from Daryl.

The two men are silent for nearly a full minute before Rick draws in a breath and says, "We need to talk."

"Yep," Daryl agrees but makes no move to look up, his troubled eyes still studying Judith.

"Alright, I just..."

"Look, Rick, man, I can leave ya alone if ya want," Daryl interrupts, fiddling with the blankets on Judith's cot. "If that's what yer meaning ta say. I know ya said ya were cool with what happened the other day, but if yer not..."

"Wait what?" Rick turns so he's facing Daryl, wanting to reach out but refraining. Instead he waits until the hunter finally looks up, a guilty expression on his face, before saying, "I told you before that kiss didn't bother me. In fact, I..."

"Hey Dad." Carl bursts into the cell, looking down at a radio in his hands. "Have you seen Daryl? Maggie says he was the last one to see..." Carl looks up, letting his words trail off. "Oh, there you are." He holds his radio up and asks, "Where did you put those batteries you had? These went to shit."

"I'll help ya find 'em," Daryl answers carefully handing Judith over to Rick, pushing himself to his feet. The ex-lawman watches the hunter leave the cell, irritation settling in his gut. He's really starting to reconsider his ambushing plan.

* * *

The next day Daryl decides to go out hunting. Usually he takes Carl or Sasha with him, both having a better aptitude for tracking than Rick ever had, but today it seems like he wants to go alone. Or, that's how it appears to Rick, both Sasha and Carl mentioning something about Daryl declining their offers to go with him, but the ex-lawman is taken by surprise when the hunter stops by his garden.

"Hey," Rick greets looking up from the tomatoes he had been weeding. "Coming to say goodbye?"

Daryl fiddles with his crossbow strap, a nervous look flickering across his face when he asks, "You wanna go with me?"

Rick sits back on his heels, running a dirty hand through his hair, shielding his eyes from the sun with the other. "You sure?" Daryl nods, shuffling his feet, and Rick pushes himself to his feet.

He calls to Carol to keep an eye on Judith, and she nods without looking up from the laundry, but, if he's not mistaken, Rick sees a knowing smile on her face. Figuring it's a trick of the light, he follows Daryl towards the prison entrance. Sasha and Bob get the gate for them, continuing their conversation as if it had not been interrupted, and soon the two men are alone.

It's not the first time they've been alone, far from it, but for some reason Rick feels nervous. He runs his sweaty palms down his thighs, clenching his hands into fists, watching the back of Daryl's head. He hasn't said anything since he asked Rick to come hunting with him, and Rick wonders if Daryl is waiting for him to start. The ex-lawman opens his mouth to say something, but the hunter's voice cuts him off.

"I almost walked away that day, in Lil' Asskicker's cell." Rick stops, watching Daryl as he fiddles with his crossbow strap again. "What she had been asking, what she wanted us to do..." he trails off, drawing in a breath. "I couldn't do that to ya, Rick. Couldn't shove my shit on ya, but then I saw ya. Just standing there, and I just went fer it." He starts pacing across the forest floor, his footsteps kicking up dirt. He rubs the back of his neck, his face turning red, but he keeps talking. "I thought, ya know, you'd let it go. That you'd pretend it didn't happen 'cause I was okay with that, but ya kept trying to talk about it. Then the thing on the stairs happened yesterday, and last night in Judith's cell." Daryl stops, running his hands down his face, and turns to look at Rick. "I mean, shit Rick, you're my best friend, the closest thing I have to a brother since Merle. I don't wanna fuck this up because I'm in love with ya..."

Rick makes no conscious decision to move, but his feet are in motion the moment Daryl's final words leave his mouth. He backs the surprised hunter into a tree, pressing his body against the other man's, and softly says, "I love ya, too."

It takes Daryl a few seconds to comprehend what happened, but when he catches on he grabs a fist full of Rick's shirt, pulling the ex-lawman impossibly closer, crushing his lips against the other man's. Rick readily returns the kiss, clutching at Daryl's hand with his left hand, the other wrapping around the back of the hunter's neck. It's a long while before they break apart, breathing heavily, leaning into each other.

"I've been wanting to do that all week," Rick comments softly, pressing his forehead against Daryl's.

"Been wanting to do that a lot longer," Daryl murmurs toying with Rick's fingers.

Neither one knows how long they stand there, invading each other's spaces, but reluctantly they pull apart. They start back towards the prison, bumping into each other, barely able to keep the smiles off their faces. For a moment, Rick can almost forget that the world had ended nearly six years ago. That the dead don't come back or that humans aren't trying to kill each other for no other reason than survival. They're Daryl and Rick, and for that brief moment that's all they have to be. It's uncertain, what tomorrow may bring, but if neither man have another happy moment together, Rick will gladly accept this one. He catches Daryl's eye and they hold each other's gazes for several minutes, not even attempting to hide their smiles this time.

Yeah, this one isn't so bad

**The End...**


End file.
